He's a Mafia Boss's son. He's handsome and courageous. She's a Billionaire's daughter. She's finely educated, beautiful, and innocent. They fall in love in close proximity inside the Bratva cage as prisoners. They were tortured physically and emotionally. But, love prevails between them in another place and at another time.
View MoreThe Triplets
“I love you. Ryan, I love you.” A dam broke inside her and she reached for him as the words poured out. He wrapped his arm around her and brought her the rest of the way home. And then she was there, snug against him, kissing his mouth, his chin, his jaw, anywhere she could reach while saying “I love you” over and over again.“Every day,” he said between kisses. “I need to hear you say it every damn day for the rest of our lives. Think you can handle me?”She eased back, put her hands on his cheeks, and stared into his eyes. “I can handle you, Ian. It’s being without you that I can’t handle.”He rested his forehead against hers. “Good, because you’re never going to get rid of me again.”Double Wedding Day
“You sure you’re ready to do this?”
Annabelle met Anaisse’s eyes in the mirror. “Hell yes. We’ve rehearsed and everything. Aren’t you?”“Me? Yes. I can’t wait. But I know this whole thing was kind of my idea.” She bit her lip and gave Annabelle the big, blue-eyed Bambi stare. “Now I’m worried I’ve rushed you. Maybe you need more time.”“Nope.” For emphasis, she shook her head. “I’m good. Completely healed.”“Physically, yes,” Anaisse quickly agreed. “And you’ve never looked more beautiful.” Annabelle watched in the mirror as Anaisse smoothed nervous fingers along the short, silky skirt of Annabelle’s dress. “But are you mentally prepared?”Was she? She frowned. “I think I am. I mean, how hard can it be? One little strut down the line. All eyes on us. Give ’em a show when we get to the end, then we’re outta here. Easy.”“Okaaaay. Just so you know, I think the plans leaked to the press. Doing this outdoors was probably a mistake. I can’t promise some paparazzi won’t get a shot. This could be splattered all over the tabloids come tomorrow.”Now she did feel some hesitation, only because that kind of publicity might not be what Anaisse wanted. “I’m sorry. If you want to pull out, I completely understand.”“No, no. I want to go for it. I don’t care who sees.”What a sister. “If you’re good to go, I’m good to go.”Anaisse smiled, and happiness radiated off her in waves. “All right. I’ll stop stressing.”“About time. You also look amazing, by the way. Sweet, classy, and hot as hell, all at the same time.” It was true.Anaisse blushed. “Thanks.”A rap sounded on the opposite side of the door, and then Val came into the small room. “You”—he pointed at Anaisse—“and you.” He swung the finger toward Annabelle. “Let’s go. The other girls got the crowd warmed up. It’s showtime.”Annabelle glanced at Anaisse and lifted a brow. “Ready?”Anaisse nodded.Val offered them each an arm. They linked up and walked through the door, down a short, marble-floored hall, and along a vine-covered pergola. She heard the music now and tried to pace herself accordingly. They reached the lawn. Sunlight streamed over a runner of white carpet. The pristine path bisected the assembly of guests standing in front of their white-slip-covered folding chairs and ended at a rose-covered lattice arbor where several people waited. Beyond the arbor stretched a breathtaking view of the gleaming mountainous terrain, but gorgeous as the ocean view was from the bluff-top perch of the Kingsom estate they’d rented for this particular event, Annabelle found her attention drawn to the people gathered in front of the arbor.Ginger, Ariana, and Lee Anne stood on the left, uncharacteristically elegant in shimmering silver sheaths. Opposite them stood the younger Gregorio brothers, two dark-haired, dangerously hot specimens molded from the same formidable clay as Tommy—Michael, the rough, tough, Marine, and the other, the MBA, which Annabelle thought in his case ought to stand for Major Bad-Ass.Then came Thomas Gregorio, all restrained ruggedness in his black tuxedo, standing next to the placid-faced minister. Her eyes cut right and landed on Ryan, and her heart did a little flutter. God, he looked so handsome. Tall and tanned and cover-model polished, but the civilized tux couldn’t conceal the energy coiled in his lean, hard body, or his innate, alpha-male assurance. That insanely gorgeous, sexy man right there loves you, a little voice whispered.The music swelled and then subsided when they reached the arbor. Val snuffled loudly, cleared his throat, and said, “Thought you girls were smarter than this,” in a gruff stage whisper that sent a ripple of laughter through the audience. He kissed Anaisse’s cheek, then turned to Annabelle, swept her into a theatrically dramatic embrace, and planted a loud, smacking kiss on her. She raised a hand to her head to keep her hair from spilling out of its sleek twist and used the other hand to feign some damsel-in-distress beating on Val’s back.He hauled her upright, tapped her chin lightly with his knuckles, and said, “Best move you ever made, kid.” Then he was gone and the minister turned to Anaisse and Tommy. Annabelle watched, teary-eyed, as they pledged their love, their futures, their everything, to each other, and exchanged I-dos.Then it was Ryan’s turn. She watched his face as he repeated the minister’s words. No hesitation. Not a single stutter. He topped it all off with a slow smile delivered straight to her. The minister turned to her. “And do you, Annabelle, take—”“I do!” she shouted. Oh, hell yes, she did. She wrapped her arm around Ryan’s neck, fused her mouth to his, and kissed him with everything she had. And kissed him…and kissed him…and kept right on kissing him.Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard the guests cheering and clapping. She heard the minister saying, “Wait. Wait…not yet!” and then rushing through the “With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife” part.When she broke away for air, Ryan looked down at her with a devilish glint in his eyes. “Wanna cut out early and get started on the honeymoon?”Her laugh turned into a squeal when he hauled her up against him and brought his mouth down to hers. “I do,” she whispered when she could speak again, and sealed it with a kiss.Behind the backdrop of the happy wedding ceremony, an old female uninvited guest was looking at the newly double-wed couple, crying, saying to her heart, “I’m very sorry my triplets, my children, my life secrets will be buried with me. Once, I was an heir of a Billionaire Mafia Boss Emilio Bernardino, but, I chose to hide and live freely. Rocky Ace de Luna, Craig Gomez, and Montero Villar brought Anya to Italy. Where is Anya now?”
XXXHe slipped the ring on her finger, climbed onto the bed, and swept her into a kiss. By the time he was done, her head spun more than a little, and there was a strange clapping sound assaulting her ears. “Ignore them,” he whispered, cupped her jaw, and lowered his head for another kiss.Confused, she looked beyond him, toward the door. Val, Ginger, Ariana, Lee Anne, Anaisse, and Tommy gathered just beyond the threshold, clapping.“About time, Snowflake,” Ginger called.“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Ryan called, never taking his eyes off her. His smile held wicked intent.The door whooshed closed.“I’m injured,” she warned as he moved in.“I’m careful.” He traced the front opening of her hospital gown, barely grazing her flesh.“I guess you are,” she managed, as his fingers parted the gown.“And creative.” As proof, he tapped the bed-adjust button and eased her into a more reclined position.She raised a brow at him. “A nurse could walk in here at any moment to check on me
The light hum of female voices registered first, followed by the smell of roses and lilies. Annabelle lay still for a moment, kept her eyes closed, and did a quick physical inventory. Toes? Check. Fingers? Check. Head still attached to the shoulders? Check.Best she could tell, all parts were present and accounted for. She felt stiff and groggy like she’d been asleep for a week, but nothing too alarming. A vague impression of Ryan holding her hand and telling her not to worry about anything danced through her mind, but she couldn’t say for sure whether that was memory or wishful thinking. She racked her brain for something more. Other images formed—a nurse with a short brunette bob offering her water. Anaisse smiling through tears while helping brush her teeth and hair—but no Ryan Ferrer.Deciding to chance a look around, she opened her eyes and blinked a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness. Sunlight streamed through an unfamiliar window, below which sat a metal cabinet holdi
Ryan hurried down the passageway toward the stage, hugging the wall and keeping his steps quick and light. He doubted anyone would hear him coming over the noise of the party, but he didn’t plan on leaving it to chance.The passageway widened at the back of the stage. A retractable metal security gate spanned the stage to prevent anyone from moving the festivities to the backstage area. The blackout curtain hung just beyond the security gate. He wrapped his hand around a slat and gave the gate a shake, testing it. Fully secure, with very little give. No one had slipped into or out of the backstage area through there. He worked his fingers between the slats, moved the curtain aside, and looked out. A sea of zombies, ghouls, princesses, and pirate wenches danced under flashing purple lights. Nothing unusual.His phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. A text from Tommy read, At the back door. Wait for me. For a nanosecond, he considered waiting, because, pro
Detective Ryan FerrerRyan bit back a curse as he examined the broken lock. Kicked in? He pulled his gun and crept through the door, keeping it low. Since nobody shot him in the head the moment he cleared the threshold, he swept left with his gun, then right. No sign of anyone.He straightened, stuck his gun into the back of his jeans, and debated his choices. Val’s office and the dancers’ dressing room were down the hallway to the left. The hallway on his right led to the stage, and beyond that, another narrow hall led to the back door of the club.Instinct told him to go right since that direction ultimately led to an exit. He shot off a text to Tommy. The door’s busted. Get back here. Don’t bring Anaisse. He didn’t wait for a reply, just tucked the phone in his pocket and started down the hall, scanning in every direction as he went. A few steps along, he glanced down and froze. What the hell…? He crouched and picked up a small white feather.His heart thundered in his chest. Annab
Oh, no. No one would see them up there. “I can’t. I’m afraid of heights.” Also, she was in no condition to scramble up a straight-vertical ladder. Numb hands, shaky legs, and the unrelenting pain in her side made the climb risky.She released a shuddery breath when the pressure of the gun disappeared from the center of her back. Her shoulders dropped and she relaxed infinitesimally, just knowing the damn thing wasn’t poised to blow a hole through—The cold, unforgiving metal pressed against her temple, scattering her thoughts like seagulls. She heard the click of the safety release.“Climb or die.”“Okay, okay.” The words scraped along her tight, dry throat. Turned out her fear of bullets trumped her fear of heights. She clasped the nearest rung in a bloody grip. “I’ll climb.”Working her way up the ladder took even more effort than she’d anticipated. Escape scenarios cart-wheeled through her mind too quickly for her to get a solid hold on any one plan.Stay calm. Easier thought than
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Annabelle, where are you? Ryan cut a path through zombies, mummies, and vampires, scouring his search area for any sign of her. There was none. To compound his apprehension, his phone remained frustratingly silent. The secret hope he’d harbored that she’d sneaked away to a stall in the ladies’ room to put herself together and curse him to hell and back waned with each passing second.If anything happened to her, he’d…he didn’t know what he’d do. His hand shook as he shoved it through his hair, pulling hard at the roots until his scalp screamed. They had to find her. End of discussion. There was no way his last interaction with the love of his life could take place in a back room at a strip club, her staring at him with a heartbreaking expression on her face, saying, “I’m sorry.”Absolutely not. He’d find her. And when he did, he’d sit her down and they’d have an honest talk—no more games or tactics. He’d ask her, point-blank, what the hell part of their relationship
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